


I get by with a little help from my friends

by Lurkete



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hopeful Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurkete/pseuds/Lurkete
Summary: Myka is sad, the gang stages an intervention.This fic takes place right after the 2nd season's ending.





	

It was a lie of course. She hadn't left the warehouse because she thought she would second guess herself into oblivion.

 

She left the warehouse because she was terrified about Helena's future. She was terrified about Helena's future and the feeling was just not going away.  
  


It was the acidic taste in her mouth, the painful churning of her stomach, the aching stress in her shoulders and back, the crushing weight on her chest; but most worrying was the fact that the feeling was there _all the time_ \- maintaining the same intensity ever since they brought the heart-broken and beaten-down brunette to the warehouse.  
  


She'd been afraid for somebody else's life before, her ability to do so is part of what made her such a great secret service agent. But this was much more than a lingering misplaced sympathy or even her inherent empathy.  
  


In the face of the sheer volume and tenacity of the horror induced by the _mere thought_ of what the Regents were going to do to Helena - Myka knew she was in love.  
  


Well, she thinks, she knew it beforehand - she's not _completely_ emotionally retarded, that's Pete's forté.  
She on the other hand is liable to identify her emotions quite quickly, but then to immediately and vehemently deny them out of some pure knee-jerk masochistic tendency.  
  


What a pair they make, it's no wonder they got chosen to guard a cryptic old warehouse full of secret ancient artifacts. It wasn't out of any sort of merit on their part, she thinks sarcastically, but as a public service - the government deciding to take pity on the general populace by removing the two of them from the dating pool.  
  


She sighs and deflates, slouching in the driver's seat of her SUV.  
  


The thing is, denial is just a sophisticated philosophical catch-22, wrapped up in emotional baggage and some theoretical physics.  
  


After all, claiming that something isn't there means that somewhere in her mind she had contemplated the subject, evaluated the possibility of its existence, and _only then_ decided that it never existed - so of course she couldn't have thought about it in the first place.  
  


But the Copenhagen interpretation of Schrödinger's cat would claim that the minute her subconscious contemplated the emotion in order to deny it, it "observed" and therefore collapsed the quantum mechanics of her heart, hurtling her love into reality.  
  


Basically "Cogito Ergo Sum" trumps the human-mind's arrogant belief that it can _determine_ things out of existence, or more correctly "Cogito ergo suus existence".  
  


_Ugh, stupid Myka brain_. She closes her eyes and taps her forehead with the fingers-side of her bunched fist. She's just stalling, thinking about stupid nerd-things instead of trying to come up with a way to glean practical information about what the hell happened to Helena.  
  


Who cares that she has fallen in love. For the first time ever. After 29 years of age.  
Who cares how important the realization of this emotion - and her capacity for it - is to her self-esteem and general sanity.  
All these epiphanies will amount to nothing if she cannot shove this overwhelming fear for Helena under some sort of manageable wrap. Not knowing is killing her.  
  


She stops the car off to the side of the dirt road when the tears start to blur her vision and her throat threatens to choke up with feelings of helplessness and borderline hysteria.  
She sets her forehead on the steering wheel while still clutching it with her hands and starts sobbing quietly.  
Trying to keep it together but failing. Losing.  
  


She marinates in her misery.  
  


A part of her is aware that this is an unproductive use of her time; another part of her is horrified at how powerless she is to stop the onslaught.  
  


A knock on the SUV's window freaks her out so much that she almost jumps out of her skin.  
  


Pete is making a circular motion with his hand while mouthing for her to roll down the window. She can see Claudia’s old beat-up car behind him.  
  


"Open up Myka!" she hears Pete's muffled voice, "You can't escape, I told Claudia to form a one-woman hippie barricade so you can't drive off," he yells and points to the front of her SUV where Claudia has sprawled her upper body over the hood.  
  


"What!" she exclaims after rolling down the electrical window.  
  


"What? What?! You ask me what!?" Pete pops the lock-button on her door and opens it rather violently before she has a chance to do anything.  
  


"What happened to 'We're a team Pete'," he squeaks out in a high-pitches imitation of a girly Myka-voice.  
  


"I don't sound like that."  
  


"You're getting into the ugly yellow car right now young lady, and we're going to sit down and discuss your feelings." He points at Claudia's old wreck with an agitated motion.  
  


"Whatever _mom_ , this is not about my feelings. And what’s wrong with my SUV? It has air conditioning."  
  


"Fine," Pete says and shoves into the SUV, forcing her to scoot over to the passenger seat.  
  


They sit for awhile without saying anything. Myka stares it Pete with a well-genius-what-now expression.  
  


"Well genius, what now?"  
  


"Yeah, yeah, you made me lose my train of thought," he waves his hands and stairs out the front window in concentration.  
  


"Hey guys, have we started talking about Myka's feelings yet?" Claudia says as she hops into the middle of the back seat and leans her face a bit between them. "Ooh air conditioning."  
  


"Yes! Myka's feelings," Pete claps his hands. "We were talking about your feelings," her turns to her.  
  


"We are not talking about my feelings; my feelings are not going to be talked about," she moves to open the door.  
  


"Ahh ta-ta-ta-ta," Pete slows her down. "Claudia?" he looks back at the red head.  
  


"On it boss." The teen hops out of the car on Myka's side and leans on the aggravated woman's door from the outside, neatly foiling her exit rout.  
  


Myka turns back to Pete from looking at the image of Claudia’s rear and back bunching up on the window.  
  


"Really?" she huffs at him.  
  


"Hey, physical intervention from friends and family is often a necessary evil when the patient exhibits cases of extreme stupidity."  
  


She huffs again and folds her arms tightly over her chest, turning away from him only to be confronted once more with the vista of Claudia's backside leaning against the window. She turns back to him with a scowl.  
  


"We love you Myks, I love you, and you love her."  
  


"Pe-"  
  


"No hear me out. I wasn't joking about the trusting your judgment thing and I wasn't joking about the team thing.  
I do trust you Myka, and I believe in you, but more than that, I have a hunch."  
  


"A hunch?"  
  


"Yeah, that this story isn't over yet, that we're barely in the middle of it, and that your trust in H.G. will prove itself to be warranted yet."  
  


"You really think so?" her voice scratches as she looks at him with her sad Myka-eyes.  
  


"Yes partner, I really do," he answers and gathers her into a Pete hug.  
  


They stay like that for some time. After a while Myka hears her door open and Claudia adds in her body sprawl, turning the embrace into a goofy group hug.  
  


"Come on ladies," the red-head says. "I think I have a lead. Just don't tell Artie."

 

 


End file.
